A/N: I do not own the world of Tolkien, I have just created this story in his wonderful world and any OC's. Enjoy.

Things were changing for the better he was sure of it. Legolas practically skipped around his chamber as he prepared for the days outing with his father. This would be one of their longest outings yet alone and although they were few and far in-between, they meant the world to him for finally, after all these years, the King was paying him even more heed, and he was trying to be a father to him again.

Legolas strapped on his quiver and made sure he looked respectable in the large mirror in his spacious lounge chamber before he dashed out the door and then remembering himself, slowed and strode purposely through the corridors to meet his father in their dining hall for the break of day meal.

"Greetings Adar." Legolas said as he came to sit in the intricately designed, mahogany chair at his place at the matching table, purposely ignoring the empty chair where is mother used to sit so many years ago.

"Legolas." Thranduil inclined his head, gracing his son with a small smile which warmed the younger elf's heart. "Eat and then we shall leave, I asked our horses be prepared for our departure." Needing no more encouragement, Legolas quickly helped himself to the assortment of nuts, seeds and fruits before him, placing a ripe, green apple in the center of his plate to eat last and share the core with his horse. He swiftly gulped down his small meal and then washed it down with a chalice of cool, mint water which his father passed across to him with an amused smirk playing on his lips at his sons rush to head out into the woods. He regretted all the years he had missed in his own grief as his son had grown from elfling to young ellon. There were rifts between them now. Rifts they both struggled to find their way across. It still hurt him immensely to look into his son's eyes and for that he tried not to, for their deep, brown, kind depths brought painful memories to his heart, to his soul which had only survived for the purpose of remaining for the young, silvery blonde elf seated diagonal from him, crunching on an apple and waiting with tried patience for Thranduil to stand so they might get on with their outing. Deciding he best not keep his son waiting a moment longer, Thranduil drank down the last of his mint water and placing the chalice down on the large mahogany table before drawing his chair back and standing. The crunching of the apple stopped as Legolas looked up at him expectantly and avoiding his eager gaze, he glanced towards where his quiver and sword rested against a stone wall.

"Would you bring me my weapons Ionneg." He asked and Legolas leapt up, maintaining grace as he rushed over to retrieve the weapons and then brought them towards his father and handed him his quiver and bow. The older elf took them and went about fastening his quiver securely to his body as Legolas reverently traced the inlaid patterns upon the hilt of his father's mighty sword. He remembered his Nanath's stories from when he was a young elfling of the mighty battles this sword had been wielded in by his Adar's strong hand. That very hand now stretched out towards him and he carefully handed the sword over to the mighty elf.

Deftly Thranduil fastened it to his hip and then father and son both left the dining hall, silvery blonde hair flowing behind them.

…

Legolas sighed in content as they rode quietly beneath the trees, their horses footfalls nearly muffled upon the soft, richly organic earth. Birds sung high in the trees as they went about their daily lives. The horses suddenly both stopped of their own accord and Legolas watched with bright eyes as a young badger scampered across their path and into the trees and foliage on the other side. The forest was truly teaming with life for Spring was here! Beneath the trees the dormant bulbs of winter had emerged from the icy cold soil and delicate flowers had unfurled to meet the sun of Springtime. It was a glorious day and Thranduil must have felt the same as his son for he turned to Legolas with a grin.

"Shall we?" Legolas needed no encouragement; he whispered a single word into his steel grey mare's ear.

"Noro lagor." With a toss of her dark mane she shot forward like an arrow loosed from his bow and he laughed joyfully as he raced swiftly along the wide path beside his father whose stallion was matching his mare stride for stride.

"Come Lanthir, you can beat that old sire of yours!" Legolas whispered encouragement to his mare and as they neared the high branch of the old fig which stretched across their path, marking their finish line, Lanthir drove her hoofs faster and her elegant head passed beneath the shadow of the branch but a moment before her sire, the King's stallion.

"Yes!" Legolas cried jubilantly as he stroked his horse's neck fondly as she slowed to a mincing trot, clearly feeling smug about also besting the older horse and elf.

"Lanthir certainly you have the speed and grace of the falls in which you were named." Thranduil chuckled as he patted the neck of his stallion. "Your daughter might be fleet mellon nin but you are strength is still unparalleled. He reassured his horse who flickered his ears back to him and sighed.

"Where now Adar?" Legolas asked and Thranduil thought a moment and then smiled.

"Do you remember the large, grassy glade across the forest road, further to the south?" Legolas nodded. "I believe now it is Spring, there might be young fawns among the deer." He said softly and his son smiled eagerly and briefly he steeled a painful look into those brown eyes and saw the same wonder for life as his mothers had. Shaking his head before memories threatened to unlock themselves, Thranduil urged his stallion into an easy canter and both horses easily covered ground as they rode towards their next destination.

…

His father had been right! six tiny fawns frolicked in the soft grasses of the glade as their mothers watched over them. Legolas marveled at their long and spindly legs and then chuckled quietly as one tripped over its long legs and fell in a light brown and lightly white spotted heap upon the ground.

"Why are they born with white spots Adar but when they grow up their lovely spots are gone?" Asked Legolas curiously.

"It is so when there is danger their mothers can hide them and tell them to sleep quietly and to their enemies they will look but like soft earth with spots of sunlight filtering over it." Thranduil explained as he watched the deer.

"Oh." Legolas replied. "I guess that makes more sense than what I wondered."

"And what was that Ionneg?" Thranduil asked slightly bemused.

"I thought perhaps it was a mark to show they had been borne from the snows of Winter and emerged safely into the Springtime." He said softly and Thranduil cocked his head in wonder at his own son for he could spin his innocent and youthful thoughts into such beautifully profound sentences.

"Maybe that is so too and the Winter has blessed these youngsters with the ability to hide themselves from their predators who awaken in the Spring." He replied with a smile which matched the one upon his son's face. Two of the does shot their heads up looking towards the south of the glade into the trees, their ears alert, their bodies tense. Thranduil's eyes snapped to where they looked but could discern nothing through the trees. Suddenly his ears were met with the nasty sound of a spider's irate shriek and then the unmistakable squeal of an angry horse although it sounded higher noted and young and then a higher, chilling scream of fear.

"Your bow Legolas!" Thranduil ordered as he deftly unswung his own from his quiver and grabbed up a handful of arrows as he urged his stallion forward into the glade from where the scream had emitted from the trees on the other side.